


Here In the Dark, I Still See You

by Amethyzt



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, If one thing had been different, Sharing a Bed, The 100 (TV) Season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27599338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amethyzt/pseuds/Amethyzt
Summary: He hears her before he sees her. Other than the ever-present mechanical hum of the ship, there’s no other sounds—no other humans or machinery making a ruckus in the background. Even if there was, Murphy thinks he could pick out her uneven footfalls above it all. Only because he’s listening for them.“At least this is a more appropriate place to take a nap,” she says.Or, the one where Murphy and Raven have more time on Eligius IV before waking up the prisoners. Set during 5x04.
Relationships: John Murphy/Raven Reyes, past Emori/John Murphy (mentioned)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47
Collections: If One Thing Had Been Different - A Raven/Murphy Collection





	Here In the Dark, I Still See You

Murphy doesn’t know what’s going on with him. One minute, he’s trying to play a joke on her, a lighthearted attempt to get her to lighten up, and then the next he sticks his foot in his mouth and she’s stomping off, and rightfully so. Because he was an absolute asshole to her.

_Come to hang out with all the people you may have to kill?_

Fucking hell. What was wrong with him?

He chases after her, catching up to her easily. It’s not like she could outrun him on this ship. He tells her to wait, that he didn’t mean what he just said.

“I know how hard this is,” he says.

Even though she’s stopped at the sound of his voice, he full expects her to ignore him and speed away from him as fast as she could. That’s what most people do nowadays, even Emori. She can’t get away from him fast enough it seems. He pushes her indignant _Let it be John!_ out of him mind. To his surprise, Raven turns, in a deflated sort of way.

“Look, I’m sorry if I was a bitch before. I’m just…” She trails off, eyes flicking down to the metal floorboards for a second before meeting his. “I’m just afraid I won’t be able to pull the plug.”

This is why he stayed behind. He might not have understood what drove him to do so in the first place—a move so unlike what a survivor would do—but now he does. He’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

“I know,” he says, and then with conviction, he adds, “That’s why I’m gonna do it.”

Her expression changes instantly, though to what, he can’t decipher. Surprise, definitely. But there was something more too. “Murphy—”

“Just wait,” he says, cutting her off. “Everybody was so surprised when I stayed behind, most of all me. I thought maybe I was doing it to impress Emori but the more I think about it…” He sees her face soften, eyes glistening in the waning light of Eligius IV. It all seems so clear to him right now, right this second.

“I mean, why do you always have to be the one to sacrifice?”

He can’t remember a time where Raven has been left speechless, but he guesses this is the close he’ll ever get to that. Her mouth gapes slightly, as if she were thinking of saying something, and the sight draws his eyes like bees to honey. He shakes himself out of it. “Anyway, if it comes down to it, I got this.”

She looks into his eyes, and he can see the relief in them before she sighs, her shoulders relaxing. There’s something that looks like gratefulness in her dark irises, too. He’s the one that should be grateful. No one has ever trusted him to shoulder a burden like this for them. Not Emori, not Bellamy…

And yet out of all of them, it’s Raven that shouldn’t trust him like this. She has the biggest reason out of all of them to doubt him.

“Thank you,” she says. She takes a step toward him. “You do know what that means right? If we pull the plug—”

He stops her right there.

“You mean if _I_ pull the plug. Yes, I’m well-aware.” He hand waves her concerns away. “Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure my moral compass is already fucked to begin with.”

“What? No, that’s not what I meant. If you’d let me _finish_ ,” she stresses with a roll of her eyes. “I was going to say that if we pull the plug, we’ll have no prisoners. No leverage.”

He realizes what she means now. “We’d be stranded…” he gives the metal hallway a cursory glance. “For a while.”

“At least until our friends figured out how to come get us.” She sighs, looking at the floor. “And I tell Bellamy I lied about the escape pod.”

He doesn’t want to consider this possibility, but he feels like one of them should say it out loud. He clears his throat. “What happens if they can’t come and get us?”

Raven shakes her head. “That’s not going to happen.” She’s saying this to herself as much as to him.

Part of him wants to push her to answer him, to get her to say what they’re both thinking out loud. If their friends don’t come get them, if they lose whatever battle for dominance could be going on down on Earth, Raven and Murphy will die up here together. Alone.

The thought terrifies him. It only took Emori a few months until she started to get sick of him on the Ring, even if they stayed together for years afterward before they broke up. How long would it take Raven?

He’s not the easiest person to live with. He fears he’ll grow to resent her for his decision to stay behind, as unfair as it would be. Or worse, she’ll go back to despising him with the same ardent passion she did so back on Earth. No matter how big this ship is, it would never be big enough for the both of them to live lonely, tragic lives apart from each other with any semblance of peace.

Murphy knows he’s thinking of the worst case scenarios, but that’s all that’s been handed to him in life. He’s never had the luxury of looking at the bright side of things.

But he’s damn good at distractions.

He’s surprised when he gets Raven to go along with his suggestion of a soccer game, even more shocked when he sees her competitiveness make a full-blown appearance. He’s faster than her, so he knows he has this in the bag from the start. Murphy likes goading her on though, and he’s good at trash-talking, though maybe he takes it a bit far by calling her a “hideous one-legged goalie,” but he’s pretty positive she can take it. Raven has to know she’s beautiful.

The way she looks at him when he does a victory lap… He sees affection in the warmth of her brown eyes, crinkled in the corners despite her raised eyebrows and slightly pursed lips.

It’s that look that inspires him to pick her up and throw her over his shoulder, feeling a thrill at her resounding squeak followed by laughter urging him to put her down.

He ignores her, holding her tight as he runs to the command center.

Which turns out to be a mistake, because once there it’s like Raven rediscovers the ridiculous notion she seems to have that she’s not allowed to have fun. She spends the next few hours sitting dutifully by the radio, waiting for another call from Bellamy and Clarke, and getting to know the ins and outs of how the ship operates.

At first, Murphy stuck around, but when she made it clear that she was not going to be distracted again, he made himself scarce. He explores Eligius IV, opening random doors to see what lay behind them. He finds more utility closets than he thought would be on a ship of this scale, and no matter how bored he is, nothing could make endless buckets and mops exciting.

Through another corridor, he finds a luxury he hasn’t experienced since the Becca’s island: Beds. 

The ship’s living quarters weren’t extravagant, just a few bunkrooms all sharing a common living room space with a TV. But after spending six years on the Ring, sleeping on the ground or on poorly-thrown together “beds” made of whatever cushions and mats they were able to scrounge up, it looks better than the family units on Alpha Station.

At least if he and Raven get stuck up here, they’ll have somewhere decent to sleep.

He sits down on a bottom bunk, bouncing up and down a bit. It’s shit—hard as a board, but what was he expecting. He’s starting to miss the Ring.

He has a hard time imagining the captain of Eligius IV sleeping in the same quarters as his crew, so logic tells him there has to be a better bed elsewhere. He wanders through another corridor, and comes across a lonely-looking door at the end of the hall.

“Please don’t be a storage closet,” he mutters to himself. When he opens the door and sees what lays behind it, he lets out a long whistle of appreciation. “Bingo.”

The room isn’t palatial by any means, but it’s roomier than the bunks. He crosses the threshold, his hand trailing along the metal desk near the entrance. It’s been stripped clean of any personal effects—he guesses by whatever prisoner occupied this space after the mutiny.

He doesn’t know why his eyes went to the bare piece of furniture first. Not when his focus should have been on the double bed sitting atop a small platform and the massive portholes surrounding it, behind the headboard and on either side. It’s almost unsettling. He wonders if whoever sleeps in that bed feels like they’re being floated.

He sits down on the edge, feeling the mattress compress around him. He’s never felt something like that before. Murphy can’t help himself. He scoots back and lays down, eyes closed as he settles against the pillows with his palms tucked behind his head.

* * *

He hears her before he sees her. Other than the ever-present mechanical hum of the ship, there’s no other sounds—no other humans or machinery making a ruckus in the background. Even if there was, Murphy thinks he could pick out her uneven footfalls above it all. Only because he’s listening for them.

“At least this is a more appropriate place to take a nap,” she says. He hears her come closer, the door shutting behind her. He keeps his eyes closed until he hears her stop at what he guesses is the foot of the bed. Then, he only opens one, taking a peak at her with her arms crossed and hip cocked to one side like she’s just caught him doing something he’s not supposed to be doing. “Though I don’t know that it’s fair that _you_ get the captain’s quarters.”

He opens both eyes now and shrugs at her. “To the victor go the spoils,” he says.

“If I would have known the stakes of the soccer game, I would have cheated,” she says, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. “Maybe tripped you or something.”

“Raven Reyes would never.”

She pretends to consider that statement. “I mean, not usually. But maybe for this bed I would.”

He stretches out. “Plenty of room for the both of us.” He regrets the statement at soon as it leaves his lips. The last thing he wants is to make her uncomfortable.

To his surprise, Raven just hums. She trains her dark eyes on him with a raised eyebrow. “And what would Emori say about us sharing a bed?”

He lets out a short, harsh laugh, sucking on his teeth afterward. “Seeing as she volunteered for me to stay behind _instead_ of you, I would say she wouldn’t give a rat’s ass.”

Raven shakes her head at this, dismissing the notion. He watches as she draws random patterns on the grey comforter.

The silence stretches on so long that Murphy thinks the conversation is over. Then, she says, “She’s still in love with you. She wouldn’t be so angry if she wasn’t.”

“Well,” he says, shifting on the bed to sit up, “she has every reason to be mad at me. As I’m sure you’ve heard over the last few months.”

Again, she shakes her head. “We don’t actually talk about you, to be honest.”

“Ouch.” At the very least, he deserved a snide comment every now and then.

“It’s for the best, trust me.”

He’s going to have to take her word on that, even though he doesn’t know what she means.

Raven stands up with a sigh. She looks at him expectedly, gesturing to the door with a tilt of her head. “C’mon sleeping beauty. Let’s head to the bunks.”

Murphy makes a face. “ _You_ can do whatever you want. _I’m_ sleeping here.” She rolls her eyes at him, and indignant, he says, “Oh c’mon we haven’t slept in a real bed in ages.”

“I know, but we should really stick together. We don’t really know what’s happening on the ground.”

He gestures to the spot beside him, and he can see her struggling internally—it’s written plain as day on her face, her eyebrows creased and mouth pursed as she chews on her cheek.

“You don’t really want to sleep in the bunks,” he says, feeling like he can win her over if he just prods her a little further. “I know you must be dying to sleep in a real bed, with real pillows.” He chucks one over at her, which she deftly catches, clutching it to her chest automatically.

“We’re farther from the command center of the ship here.”

“Only by a little. And you have the radio.”

He’s wearing her down. He can tell by the way she rakes her fingers into the fabric of the pillow.

“Well… What if another prisoner wakes up?”

“Then we’d be safer here. It’s not the first place they’ll look and door has a lock, doesn’t it?”

The way to win with her is to use logic. It’s never failed him, at least not yet. He’s hoping his lucky streak continues because spending a night on this bed… with her… that makes him feel something. A cross between excitement and terror. She often inspired both emotions in him simultaneously. Trust this woman to put the fear of God in him.

She turns and he suppresses a sigh of disappointment, only to see her flip the lock on the door. The sight sends a jolt to his dick, and he should be ashamed of himself. But it’s only a natural reaction. It doesn’t mean anything.

She flips her ponytail over her shoulder when she turns and he feels a flash of doubt. His mouth suddenly feels really dry, and he swallows.

Raven stops at the foot of the bed again. She places the pillow down before meeting his eyes. “Okay,” she says. “We’ll sleep here.”

He likes the way the word “we” sounds coming from her mouth. He likes that they’re a “we,” even if just until their friends come back for them. But Bellamy, Monty, Harper, Echo and Emori feel impossibly far away at the moment. 

He s _hould_ be thinking of Emori. And yet… his mind can’t stop thinking about Raven, a few steps away in the adjoining bathroom. He can hear the sound of the shower running. He pictures the water drippling down her body, hugging every naked curve, gathering at her navel before running down her legs in wayward rivulets, beading at the peak of her nipples.

Murphy clears his throat, feeling himself getting too invested in what his friend is doing in the shower. Raven was his _friend._

It’s not the first time he’s had these thoughts, but it’s the first time he’s allowed himself to think about them in depth. And it needs to stop.

Raven emerges from the shower with wet hair, but thankfully dressed in her regular clothes. She gestures that it’s his turn. “If we’re sleeping in the same bed, you need to not smell like you haven’t showered in three days.”

He rolls his eyes. Her quips he can handle. “How’d you know?”

She pushes a towel into his chest.

A shower will do him good. A long, very cold, shower.

He probably takes too long under the spray, but with no one else waiting their turn, and seemingly an endless supply of running water, he allows himself the luxury. After, he redresses in his pants, but foregoes his shirt because he never sleeps in one.

Raven is already in bed when he comes out of the small bathroom. His eyes immediately zero in on the pile of clothes folded neatly on the floor beside her. _Don’t think about her naked, don’t think about her naked._

She’s not though—at least not fully. He can see the thick strap of her sports bra peeking from where the quilt has dropped from her shoulder. There’s an urge on his part to pull it back up her arm. When he gets to the bed, he can see the gooseflesh on her bare skin.

He turns, drops his pants on the floor until he’s in his boxers. He slips into bed, warmth flooding into his bones from more than just the heavy quilt. The bed seemed a lot bigger when he was the only person in it, and he rolls so that his back is against hers.

“You didn’t turn off the light.”

Murphy turns his head toward her. She’s still curled up on the side of the bed. He wonders if her knees are hovering an inch outside the mattress like his.

“We’re going to sleep?”

He can hear the smirk on her lips even if he can’t see it. “That’s normally what people do in bed.”

“They do other stuff too.”

A snort this time. “Sorry Murph. I’m not that kind of girl.”

He smiles, getting up from bed with a groan to cross the room and flip off the light switch. The overhead fluorescent light fizzles out. The room, illuminated by the endless expanse of stars outside the large windows, makes him feel like he’s floating – like he’s watching himself from up above, trying not to read too much into the way his eyes examine the shape of Raven in bed against the backdrop of the galaxy outside.

It’s not a bad view at all.

He climbs back in bed, and he should turn his back to her, should close his eyes and think of the girl back down on Earth he’s supposed to be thinking of, and not the one who reaches back and unties her hair from her tie, brown strands fanning over the pillow. He wants to bury his nose at the nape of her neck.

Raven’s voice breaks the silence in the end.

“I meant it, you know.”

He props himself up on his elbow, and she rolls over to face him. “I’m really glad you stayed behind,” she says.

“Easiest decision I’ve made in six years,” he says, and it’s a little bit of a lie, but he’d say it again just to her flash that smile of hers that makes him feel lightheaded.

“Liar,” she says, because she wouldn’t be Raven if she didn’t call him out on his shit.

“I can safely say there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with in a ship full of frozen psychopaths.”

She laughs, and they’re close enough now that he can see the little divot in her chin. It’s not quite a dimple, but in the few times he can get her to smile in secret, the dip in her skin fascinates him. It’s like a sign that he’s succeeded in making her forget the weight she carries on her shoulders. He’s not useful for much, but this… this he can do.

“Only because you know I’ll get you out of trouble.”

“You’re enough trouble as it is,” he says, and he can’t hold himself back any longer. He tucks a few strands of her hair behind her ear. He doesn’t miss the way she shivers at the touch of his hand.

“Murphy,” she says, and her voice is full of warning. “We _can’t.”_

“We can’t,” he repeats, their faces somehow closer than they were a second ago.

When she shakes her head, the tips of their noses touch. “We shouldn’t.”

“We shouldn’t.”

They’re just words. They mean nothing, not when she draws ever closer with each heartbeat, not when her eyes are locked onto his until it feels like she’s seeing his very soul. These sentences are filling the space where their lips should occupy. He trails a hand up to cradle her chin, and he feels her fingers press against his chest. She rakes her fingers over his skin, and when he hisses at the sensation, their mouths collide.

Kissing Raven feels familiar, and it shouldn’t. He’s spent six years kissing another pair of lips. His brain, now operating at less mental capacity than normal, wonders why. Why would his lips ever depart from Raven’s when it feels like she’s an extension of him—new, exciting and yet natural. It’s as easy as breathing.

She opens her mouth against his with a gasp, and he deepens the kiss. If all he ever gets is this kiss, this moment, he wishes he could say he could die happily. But Murphy’s a selfish man, and already he wants more. He wants to bury himself so deep within her that they forget where each other begins. He wants to know what makes her squirm, and what makes her sigh in pleasure. He wants to map the plains of her body with his mouth. He wants it all.

And so it’s no surprise he’s not the one who stops the kiss, but her. They’re breathing hard. She folds her head under his chin, and he wraps his arm automatically around her.

“Murphy, I—"

He doesn’t want to burst the bubble they’re currently in, so he rubs her back, holding her closer and tangling his legs with hers. “Let’s not talk tonight.”

“Ok… Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

* * *

Turns out they don’t get tomorrow. Sometime in the middle of the night, they’re woken up by blaring alarms and they’re a mess of limbs as they redress and Raven snaps her brace on, her shirt inside out as they bolt to the cryo chambers.

She asks him to pull the lever that will kill every soul in there, including them, and despite his earlier promise, he can’t do it.

“I’m not ready to die, are you?”

She shakes her head.

They wake up every single goddamn prisoner on this ship and he hopes he made the right call. There was too much on the line now. She looks to him for direction, and he pushes her behind him as the cryo pods hiss open.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed this short story. This oneshot was written for a collection of Murven fics written by myself and EasilyDistractedbyFanfic where we'll be exploring our takes on how Murven would have been affected in canon if just one thing had changed.
> 
> Please check out the other two stories in the collection if you haven't already and feel free to add your own! We would love to see what you come up with :)


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